


Mixtape

by missdibley



Series: Oh My Oakley [7]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Unrelated (2007)
Genre: F/M, First Love, Paris - Freeform, Smut, Summer Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3961447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oakley and Helen say goodbye after their week of love? lust? passion? Whatever it was, it's over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Turn Me On, I'm A Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No. Let's just take a break. You need to be with your family and I..." Helen's voice trailed off. "Sorry, but I need to be alone while my heart is breaking."

The last day of July.

The last day of the program.

The last day of Helen & Oakley.

There was no last breakfast because the dining hall was closed. An RA left a bag containing a sweaty carton of yogurt, a banana, and a stale blueberry muffin slumped against Helen Dean's door. She rapped on the door softly.

"Helen?"

She waited for a reply. There was none.

The RA cleared her throat and tried again.

"Helen? Buses are arriving in an hour. Leave your door open when you check out, and put the key in the lock on the outside, okay?"

The RA thought about knocking again but decided to leave it. She knew Helen was in there. Oakley, too. She had turned a blind eye (and a deaf ear) to Helen and Oakley's activities that last week.

She thought, If ever there were two people so completely crazy about each other, it was Helen and Oakley.

She wondered, Will they stay in touch? Will they continue?

She prayed, I hope they do.

The RA smiled at the modest but lovely diamond sparkling on her left hand, reminded herself to call her fiance later, then continued leaving breakfast parcels for the rest of her charges in the girls' tower.

Inside room 201, Helen was dry eyed.

She had wanted to sleep in, sleep forever in the narrow bed with the saggy mattress and the rough sheets. She wanted to sleep in the gangly arms of the boy who currently occupied in her bed. Thomas Oakley was a handsome boy. But in sleep, he was beautiful.

The buses were coming at 9am. All but one would be transporting students to Heathrow, to Gatwick, to Luton. One bus, Helen's bus, would be taking a few of them to Paris for an extra week of touring - no classes, just art appreciation and dinners where the kids would order steak frites and beg their chaperones for small glasses of wine.

Helen wanted to go home. She wanted this fantasy, this dream of Oxford and Paris and summer, to be over. The sooner the better. The sooner it was over, the sooner she was back in Queens and sweating out the last month before her last year of high school, she sooner she could forget about him. She sooner she could forget that someone as wonderful as Oakley had come into her life and played with her and fucked her and listened to her and fought with her and forgave her, the sooner she could get on with the rest of her life.

Helen never stopped to wonder why she was in a hurry. Helen knew.

Helen loved him. And she felt like shit.

She felt like shit because she knew her love was a burden. It was a gift that nobody wanted. She loved her parents, once upon a time, and she was repaid with neglect and then abuse. She had loved her first boyfriend but he cheated on her. She loved her best friend Katie.

Katie! Katie was in Paris, attending the sister program to Helen's. But she'd be gone by the time Helen arrived. They'd have to wait another week before they could reunite in Queens, in Katie's house in the part of Queens which was much nicer than Helen's, and then Helen could cry over Oakley in her best friend's arms.

She loved Oakley but she wanted to spare him. And forget even wondering if he loved her. It was no use if he did, anyway.

"Oakley? You up?"

The boy snored. Helen laughed.

That woke him up. He sat up just a touch too fast, then squinted at Helen in the light of the room. He saw her sitting cross-legged on her desk. She had something in her hands.

"Helen? What are you doing all the way over there? Why are you there? Get over here. What time is it? Have you eaten?"

Helen shook her head.

"Almost time to go, Oak. Buses come at 9. It's 8 now."

"Is there breakfast?"

"I think somebody just dropped food at my door. Dining hall's closed today. I went down earlier to see if there was coffee."

"Do we have time to run to Starbuck's?"

Helen shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't need it."

Helen pushed herself off the desk, crossing the room in four steps so she could kneel on the floor at Oakley's side.

"Here." She tossed a cassette tape on the bed, where it landed next to Oakley's chest.

"What is this?"

"It's a tape, dummy. A mixtape. For you." Helen rose up to kiss Oakley on the forehead.

"How did you make this?"

"The guys who did sound for the drama class presentation. They're students here, got me into the student radio station and gave me a few hours to put it together."

Oakley smiled tenderly.

"Thank you. Do you have a tape player for me so I can listen to it?"

Helen shook her head.

"Are you at least going to tell me what's on it?"

Helen shook her head again.

"Then what are you going to do for me?"

Helen kissed Oakley again, this time on the lips. She sat back and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I'm going to say goodbye."

 "Goodbye? Already?" Oakley looked confused. "Helen, you're being weird. And not in your usual sexy way."

"I'm sorry," replied Helen.

Oakley leaned over and pulled Helen onto the bed next to him.

"Don't be sorry, Helen." He began to stroke her hair. "Be honest. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Helen whispered. "Nothing's wrong."

"Liar."

"And a pothead. Don't forget that."

Oakley scoffed.

"Now you're being silly. Just answer the question."

Helen sighed.

"Fine. But can we get out of here? I need some air."

* * *

Oakley and Helen stood awkwardly on the flagstones of the old quad, their bags in a forlorn pile next to their feet. Helen scratched distractedly at an imaginary mosquito bite on her arm. She looked up to see Oakley looking in the far corner of the lawn.

"Come on." Oakley's voice was a little rough, but quiet. Taking Helen's hand in his, he pulled her onto the grass. Right to the spot where they had first touched, first talked, began that game of tag. Oakley released Helen's hand while he sunk down onto the ground. Sitting cross-legged, he took Helen's hand again, then helped her take a seat in his lap.

"I think it's too hot for this. Sitting so close."

Oakley kissed her temple.

"Never."

"As you say," Helen sighed.

Oakley rested his chin on Helen's head.

"Tell me."

"Oakley." Helen's voice was faint. She closed her eyes and breathed. She turned her face into the crook of Oakley's neck and whispered.

"What was that?" Oakley sounded urgent. "Please."

Helen leaned back to look Oakley in the eye. She appeared sober and resigned.

"Oakley. I love you."

"So what do you we have here?"

Oakley was startled, jerking his body so Helen nearly fell out of his lap. He looked up, towards the voice that had interrupted them.

"Oh. It's you."

Oakley's voice was flat. He winced as a large hand clapped him on the back, then seethed as the same large hand took Helen's small one, and firmly pulled her to her feet.

Oakley stood up and frowned as an older couple joined the three of them on the lawn.

"Helen Dean, meet Christopher Oakley. My brother."

"Please," Oakley's brother smiled. "Call me Kit."

Where Oakley was beautiful with cherubic cheeks, almost innocent, [Kit was feline](https://hollywoodhatesme.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/benedict-cumberbatch.jpg?w=300&h=256). He affected a rakish air that, at the age of 20, he very nearly pulled off.

Helen looked at him carefully, and struggled to see a resemblance. She found herself too distracted by Kit's eyes, the gravelly voice, and the deep bow of his upper lip to notice the appraising eye Kit over her.

"Thomas? Thomas!" A small woman with a cap of ash blonde hair joined them on the lawn, then pulled Oakley down to press her lips to his cheek.

"Thomas where is your bag? What if someone runs off with it? Christopher go and help him find it."

Priscilla Oakley stopped talking when she noticed Helen standing in their midst. She wondered who this girl was, this girl who had one son protectively standing next to her, arm around her waist while the other held her hand in his, looking as though he might devour her.

"Thomas, who is this girl? Please introduce me."

"Mum, this is Helen. Helen is my..." Oakley almost stuttered.

"Classmate," Helen finished. "Oakley and I were in the same history class."

"Is that right, Oakley?" Kit mused. "Do you let all of your classmates sit in your lap like that?"

"Piss. Off." Oakley hissed.

"Boys! Stop it." Priscilla stepped forward to get a closer look. "I'm Priscilla, Thomas and Christopher's mother. How do you do."

Helen had never felt so examined in her life. She felt self-conscious about her dress, her shoes, even the freckles on her face as Priscilla regarded her in the morning light.

"I... I'm quite well. Thank you."

"American?"

"Yes, ma'am. I live in New York City."

Priscilla perked up.

"Really? Whereabouts? I absolutely love New York..."

"And I absolutely abhor it."

Dr. James Oakley stepped up to take his place next to his ex-wife. A tall man with a thick crop of white hair, he towered over his sons. Despite the heat and humidity he wore a jacket over a white shirt and corduroy trousers.

"How goes it, Thomas."

"Good, sir. Very good. Father, this is..."

"Glad to hear it. Let's load your things into the car. There's awful traffic on the way back into town."

Dr. Oakley stopped when he noticed his ex-wife's eyes, which were fixed on Helen. Helen was flushed, come over with a rosy pink glow that ran from her cheeks down to her chest.

"James, this is Helen Dean. She is a classmate of Oakley's."

Dr. Oakley peered at Helen, ignored her trembling lip and fluttering hands but noticed the way Oakley tightened his arm around the girl. He grunted.

"Say goodbye, Thomas."

Dr. Oakley turned around and walked away. Priscilla followed, while Kit stayed behind. He squeezed Helen's hand, then winked at her.

"Brat, I see your bag. I'll bring it to the car. We're out front."

Kit bowed to Helen.

"Nice meeting you. Sorry about Dad. But, as you can see, he's a fucking dick. Can't be helped." And with that, Kit was off.

Helen released the breath she had been holding. Oakley hugged her, tighter than anybody had ever hugged somebody.

"Helen, I..."

Before Oakley could finish, he was interrupted again.

"BUSES ARE HERE! HEATHROW, GATWICK, LUTON! BUS TO PARIS!" The RA's began yelling and helping students find the appropriate buses to board.

Helen, despite herself, began to cry.

"Oakley, don't. Don't you say it." She wiped your eyes. "If you're not ready, don't say it."

"But Helen..."

"Seriously, I mean it." Helen looked up at him, and smiled.

"Thank you so much for letting me tell you that little thing. Thank you for being my friend, and for playing with me this week. I'll never forget it. If you don't send me a friend request on Facebook I'll be so mad."

Helen laughed, almost bitterly.

"BUSES ARE HERE! COME ON LET'S GO!"

"Helen, take my phone. Text me, call me from Paris? Start from the bus? It's a long ride."

Helen shook her head.

"No. Let's just take a break. You need to be with your family and I..." Helen's voice trailed off. "Sorry, but I need to be alone while my heart is breaking."

"Oh god, Helen..."

"Sorry, Oak. Can't be helped."

Helen pressed a hand to Oakley's chest, to feel the beat of his heart. She kissed him for what she thought was the last time, then ran off to catch her bus.

* * *

Kit drove the family back to London. He insisted he needed the practice, having only gotten his driving license that spring.

Oakley pretended to sleep in the passenger seat while their parents read the paper in the back. He sat up when the car lurched a bit too much.

"Why is Kit driving again?"

"Who was that girl?" Priscilla piped up from the back seat.

"Was she your girlfriend, brat?"

Oakley ignored the question. He was about to pretend to sleep again when he noticed the dashboard of the car.

"Is that a tape player?"

Kit snorted.

"There's only been a tape player in this car for the last forty years."

Dr. Oakley made a sound of protest.

"This car is only thirty years old, Christopher."

Kit swerved.

"Well, she drives like she's 100."

Oakley found Helen's tape in his pocket, pulled it out of it's plastic shell, and inserted it into the tapedeck. He fiddled with the volume knob until the golden sound of a woman's voice filled the car.

"Who is this?" Kit asked impatiently. "Take it off. I want to listen to Skrillex."

"Oh leave it on," Priscilla cried. "That's Joni Mitchell."

> _If you're driving into town_  
>  _With a dark cloud above you_  
>  _Dial in the number_  
>  _Who's bound to love you_  
>    
>  _Oh honey you turn me on_  
>  _I'm a radio_  
>  _I'm a country station_  
>  _I'm a little bit corny_  
>  _I'm a wildwood flower_  
>  _Waving for you_  
>  _Broadcasting tower_  
>  [_Waving for you_  ](http://jonimitchell.com/music/song.cfm?id=77)

Joni's honeyed voice was soundtrack to the English countryside that whirred past them. Kit had gotten them out of the worst of the traffic. They would be in London in no time. Soon they would be home. At home Oakley could curl up in his own bed. The first bed he would sleep in that didn't have Helen in it.

Oakley tried to forget her, but he was so confused. Why was Helen so sad and so sorry? Was it because he didn't love her?

But was that really true? Didn't he love her? Didn't he?

Oakley's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of snoring from the backseat. He turned around to find both of his parents asleep.

"Hey dick."

Kit thumped Oakley in the chest.

"Who was she?"

"Helen." Oakley shrugged. "Classmate. Like I said."

Kit shook his head.

"You total fucking arsehole."

Oakley looked out the window.

"I'm asking you again. Who was she?"

"She was... she is..." Oakley turned to face Kit.

"When we get to London, can you make a stop before home? There's something I need to do."


	2. Rue Jasmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Helen couldn't see a thing but she could still hear the sounds of traffic in the street behind her, and the tourists swarming out of the Metro. Then she felt something - hands covering her eyes, arms wrapped around her shoulders. The flutter of a kiss pressed to the back of her neck. Warm breath, and a hushed voice whispered in her ear..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a playlist!

Helen Dean was a fool.

She came to this happy realization on the ferry from Dover to Calais, with the assistance of her classmate Jennie Corcoran.

The girls were glad they were taking the ferry instead of the Chunnel, because they got to see the famous white cliffs and tempt gulls with potato chip crumbs on the deck. The wind was up so they went inside to warm up and have a chat.

Helen told Jennie everything. She told her about Tag, the fight about Madeline, the karaoke ("Oh believe me, Helen, we all saw that."), the making up ("Oh believe me, Helen, we all heard that."), the pot smoking, and the last emotional days and nights before she told Oakley she loved him, and bid Oakley farewell that very morning.

Helen didn't think Jennie needed to know about the confession about her dad. She decided to keep that to herself. She also decided not to give Jennie details about all the sex.

She wasn't a prude exactly, but she wanted to keep a few things between herself and the boy she loved.

"And then I said I needed to be alone." She paused. "While my heart was breaking." Helen's face crumpled then broke into a wide smile. She laughed. She laughed hard and loud.

Jennie joined in, then stopped. "Tell me why we're laughing."

"Well, first of all, I had to go be alone on a bus full of people."

Jennie giggled.

"And it's just so dramatic. So melodramatic, in fact." Helen took a deep breath. "And poor Oakley. He must think he's to blame."

"Isn't he, though?"

Helen sat up, looked around the ferry lounge, then rearranged her hair, brushing it behind her ears.

"I can't blame him for feeling the way he does. I think that he has my heart. But he hasn't broken it. Not really. Not yet. He may not love me. But that doesn't matter. Well, it does, but not as much as I thought it would."

"Why is that?" Jennie leaned in.

"I love him enough for the both of us," replied Helen dreamily. "I love him and right now it feels terrible because he's not here. But I feel it, and I know what it feels like. And for now?"

Helen shrugged.

"It's enough." She stood up.

"Hot chocolate? My treat."

* * *

Kit Oakley threw the Rover into park after screeching to a halt in front of St. Pancras station. Inside the car the occupants of the back seat were in an uproar.

"Thomas William Oakley, if you get out of this car..." Dr. James Oakley yelled at his second son.

"You'll what?" Oakley checked his bag, which held his wallet, phone, notebook and, most importantly, his passport. He zipped the bag shut, then nodded at his brother. Kit grinned, and showed off the passport he always kept in his pocket tucked next to his own wallet and phone.

"Don't think you can just waltz home after this UNBELIEVABLE stunt you THINK you're going to attempt! I'll have the police arrest you!"

"For getting on a train?"

"You're a minor! You can't travel..."

"18 on his last birthday, and even if he wasn't Kit is 20." Priscilla's voice was little more than a whisper, but everybody heard her.

Oakley turned around to give his mother a grateful look.

That look was wiped off his face when his father slapped him, hard, across the cheek.

The car was silent.

"You'll be cut off. Your card will be invalid by the time you get inside to the ticket counter. Or should I just report it stolen?" Dr. Oakley sneered.

Oakley faltered, but only for a second when he saw his mother's eyes fill with a rage that he had never seen (and would never see again).

"You cut him off, and I will run you over with this car myself." Priscilla's voice was quiet but hard.

All three Oakley men gulped in reply.

Turning to face Oakley, Priscilla cupped his chin in her hand before squeezing it. She looked at Kit, and winked at him conspiratorially.

"Now hurry boys, or you'll miss your train."

Kit and Oakley unlocked their doors and got out. They helped their mother emerge from the back and made sure she was settled in the driver's seat.

"One more thing," Priscilla called out as they ran into the station. "You are both grounded when you return." She smiled. "Whenever that is..."

Oakley and Kit grinned, then nodded and cried "Thanks, Mum!" before running into the station.

Priscilla shook her head at her ex-husband, who sat in a state of shock of the back seat. She felt bad for him.

"The things we do for love."

Priscilla started the car, revved the engine, and drove off, turning in the direction of home.

* * *

"Helen, we're here." Jennie pointed over Helen's shoulder, out the window, as the bus lurched through the streets of Paris.

They had actually been in the city for a while, but it was all suburbs and then it was fast food chains and nothing picturesque like the postcards Helen's best friend Katie had sent. But now they were driving past alleys with cobblestone streets, men playing accordions for money, and tourists swarming all over the shops.

"Hey guys," yelled a chaperone from the front of the bus. "The dorm where we're staying isn't quite ready for us - they just called to say we won't be able to check in until after dinner."

Everybody booed this news.

"Alright, if you're gonna be like that, then I guess we're not going to the Eiffel Tower."

A more positive response was vocalized from the crowd, and then everybody went back to checking their phones.

The bus shuddered to a stop near the Tower, atop the Trocadéro Gardens, from where they could see the city unfold. It was still light so the Tower had not yet begun to sparkle with a million lights.

Helen took a hop, then another, as she stepped off the bus, stretched her legs, and breathed in the summer air. She coughed because she was surrounded by smoking tourists. She went into her purse and found her bottle of water. She took a swig, then looked at the Tower in the distance.

The city was beautiful, just like people had always told her it was.

"You coming, Helen?" Jennie was making her way down to the Gardens with the rest of the group.

"In a minute." Helen yelled. She saw Jennie's eyes open wide, seeming to catch something behind Helen, something she couldn't see. Before Helen could stop her, she saw Jennie stifle a giggle, then scamper off with Ben.

What in the world...

And then everything went dark.

Helen couldn't see a thing but she could still hear the sounds of traffic in the street behind her, and the tourists swarming out of the Metro. She held her breath.

Then a feeling, a gentle weight on her face. Hands covered her eyes, arms wrapped around her shoulders. The flutter of a kiss pressed to the back of her neck. Warm breath, and a hushed voice whispered in her ear:

> All I can see is black and white  
>  And white and pink with blades of blue  
>  That lay between the words I think on a page  
>  I was meaning to send to you  
>  I couldn't tell if it'd bring my heart  
>  The way I wanted when I started  
>  Writing this letter to you
> 
> But if I could you know I would  
>  Just hold your hand and you'd understand  
>  [I'm the man who loves you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99JdbGWVL1M)

The hands fell gently to her shoulders, then carefully turned her around. She opened her eyes to find Oakley gazing at her.

He looked relieved. He looked bashful.

He looked like he was in love.

"Hi."

"Hello."

They kissed.

For years after, Helen and Oakley would argue about many things. Chief among those things was who, at this particular moment in time, on this fine summer day, kissed the other first.

Sometimes, to annoy her, Oakley would tag his texts to her with #hanshotfirst and #youkissedfirst. Her reply always consisted of two emojis: a red lipstick print followed by a gun.

(Family members who were unfortunate enough to have heard this debate over the years soon learned the fight was just foreplay for the couple, making themselves scarce as soon as the bickering turned to cooing which would then turn to moaning.)

Oakley relished the touch of Helen's lips, loved the feeling of them as they sucked on his tongue. He savored the taste of the delicate flesh of her inner lips, then moaned when her tongue returned the caresses that his own deployed.

Helen sighed as Oakley slid his hands down to her ass, cupping them before pulling her closer into him so that she nearly had to stand on his feet to press her body to his.

As much as he wanted to kiss her sweet mouth for as long as she (and public decency laws) might allow, Oakley had something to say first. He took Helen's face in his hands, pressed soft kisses to her cheeks, to the tip of her nose, her temple, and her ears. He sucked gently on her left earlobe, then whispered.

"Helen."

Oakley felt Helen turn her head into towards his. He nuzzled his cheek against hers before looking at her sweet face.

Her eyes were full of hope.

"Helen. I love you."

Helen kissed his cheek.

"Helen. I love you."

Helen kissed his ear, then hummed into it when she pulled him tighter into her embrace. She sighed.

"Helen. I love you. And..." Oakley paused.

"What?" The sound of her smile was in her voice. This consoled Oakley.

"Uh, I'm sorry." Oakley drew himself up to his full height.

Helen looked at him, confused.

"For what?"

"I... I love you. I fell in love with you. But it wasn't at first sight. I mean, I wasn't sure, or maybe I thought I was, but I kept saying no, it was too soon. I'm sorry it took me so long."

"Oakley! You dummy." Helen kissed him lightly on the lips. "So you say you didn't fall in love with me at first sight. So it took you..." Helen mimed counting on her fingers, drawing long division in the air. "A whole EIGHT DAYS to realize it. People might argue that's too fast."

"But it isn't." Oakley shook his head. "It's the way I feel."

Helen smiled brightly.

"I know, Oak. So I can cut you some slack on those eight days when I couldn't have possibly guessed that you were in love with me. Even though we spent nearly every second together after that fateful game of Tag. Even though we spent nearly every second of that time screwing each other's brains out. Even after I told you about my sad past and you made love to me - ugh, I hate that phrase but it cannot be helped because that's what it was - like I was new and shiny and brilliant."

Oakley had wrapped his arms around her, then buried his face in her neck so only she could feel the tears of relief make their way from his eyes, down cheeks still rounded with traces of baby fat, and christen her skin.

"But then I was in love with you, too." Helen's voice had lowered to a hush. "I had told you, and you didn't say it back. And it was okay because then your parents interrupted us and I had to clamber onto the coach to get here."

"You really should have borrowed my phone so we could text." Oakley sniffed.

"Yeah," replied Helen. "You're probably right."

Oakley laughed.

"That's probably the only time I'm ever going to hear you say that to me, huh?"

Helen slapped him.

"That's right, dude. It could be years before that ever happens again."

Oakley looked down at her, his eyes suddenly serious.

"How many years, Helen?" He smiled. "How many?"

"OH GOD. You two. Honestly." Kit brayed at them.

Helen wiped her eyes, stepped out of Oakley's embrace only to take his hand, and lead him over to where his older brother stood staring at his phone.

"Hi. Kit right?" Helen took Kit's hand in hers. She squeezed it, then impulsively pulled on it so he bowed at the waist towards her. She kissed his cheek.

"Erm..." Kit was taken aback. "Yeah."

"How did you guys get here anyway?"

"Eurostar," Oakley offered. "We drove like hell to St. Pancras, and figured we might just beat the coach here."

"But how did you know I'd be here? Not just in Paris, but here at the Tower?"

"GPS tracker I clipped on your shoe." Oakley looked serious for a second, then chuckled. "No, actually, my mate Ben was on your bus. He texted me."

"Why would he tell you I was on the bus with him?"

"Actually, the reason he texted was because he still fancies your friend Jennie, and he wanted to know if I remembered your name." Oakley grinned, then pulled out his phone. "His message was 'Hey arsehole - who's Jennie's friend again? Forgot it - she's here. Want to ask her about J.'"

Oakley shrugged.

"So you guys just decided you were going to take the train here because you wanted to tell me you love me?" Helen glowed as she said this.

"Well..." Oakley thought. "Yeah." He pulled Helen to him again.

"The things we do for love." Oakley whispered.

They kissed again.

Kit rolled his eyes.

* * *

That evening, after Kit and Oakley checked in with their mother to tell her that yes, they were booked on the first train back, and yes, they knew they were grounded upon their return, yes, even a Cambridge man like Kit, and no, Oakley had no plans to talk to his father unless his father wanted to apologize to him, Oakley sat in another different small bedroom in a different college with Helen.

This dorm, which was used to house female graduate students during the fall and winter, was massive. It took up an entire city block on Rue Jasmin, hulking and bland and nothing like the small college back in Oxford where Oakley and Helen had fallen in love.

Oakley and Kit's presence was a welcome surprise to the rest of the students, who invited the brothers along for dinner. The chaperones, though, were insistent about him leaving the dorm immediately after the meal.

"Okay, but let me say goodbye to Helen? Me and the brother found a hostel nearby." Oakley sounded convincing enough to the RA, the same RA from the girls' tower in Oxford.

She arched her eyebrow at him, then looked at Helen. Helen who stood folding and unfolding the same skirt over and over again, pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Well... curfew for these guys is 11pm." The RA bit her lip. "But I won't check on them until morning."

She stepped back out of the doorway, smiled shyly at Helen, then left them alone.

"So what would you like to do now?" Helen turned to Oakley, a bland expression on her face.

Oakley shrugged, then got up to join Helen by the window. He curled a lock of her hair around his index finger and tugged.

"Helen..." He whispered. Oakley dropped the curl, and licked his lips.

"Yes?" Helen smiled wickedly. She wiggled her toes in her shoes.

Oakley tapped Helen's shoulder.

"YOU'RE IT!"

And like that Oakley was off.

Helen screamed in delight, then ran after her boyfriend, her love, as he streaked down a long corridor, down two flights of stairs and down a short corridor.

Oakley stopped by a door, waited for Helen to come into view. As soon as he saw her running down the short corridor toward him, he pushed through the door.

Helen followed him, bursting through the door to find a courtyard. An empty courtyard, as Oakley was nowhere to be found.

Beyond the courtyard, which was defined by a low stone wall, was a larger garden. Fruit trees, hydrangeas, beds of violets and pansies, roses. Helen thought she could smell strawberries. She kicked off her shoes before stepping onto the soft grass. She walked in a slow circle, then made her way to a fountain which burbled at her.

Oakley was waiting for her there.

He sat in the grass, cross-legged. He had removed his shirt and shoes and sat, chest heaving after his sprint. His eyes were dark. They saw nothing but her.

Helen approached him, walking carefully, then stopped three feet in front of him. She dropped her shoes in the grass and then, before she had time to talk herself out of it, pulled one strap, then the other, off her shoulders, down her arms, shimmying out of her dress. She stepped out of it, then pulled her panties off. Then, and only then, did she finish her walk to Oakley.

He held his arms open to her. Taking his hands in hers, she sank into his lap. Wrapping her legs around him at the waist, she leaned back, fists clenched on the grass, and offered herself to him.

Oakley leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth. He flicked at it with his tongue, swirling the bud. He nipped it when he heard Helen begin to moan.

"Quiet, love."

He snaked a hand between them, finding her clit throbbing, waiting for him. He began to rub, slowly, so slowly that Helen thought she might melt in his arms.

"Come here, love." Oakley leaned forward, wrapped an arm around Helen, and pulled her into him. He still rubbed her clit, increasing the pressure of his thumb. Helen's forehead was pressed into his shoulder. Oakley turned so he could whisper into her ear while he continued to touch her.

"Helen." He pressed a kiss to her neck. "This isn't the first time we've done this. And I can promise you this much..."

Helen raised her head to look at his face. Her mouth was slack, and her eyes were hooded.  Oakley captured her bottom lip in between his lips, sucking hard on it before he deepened the kiss, taking her mouth with his ravenous one.

"This won't be the last time either."

Oakley gripped Helen tightly, bracing himself against her as he worked his thumb tighter on her clit. He listened to her gasping, made sure her breathing was fast but regular, before slipping a finger into her sex. His thumb and finger worked together, rubbing and flicking and tweaking and pinching. Always moving, always touching, always loving.

Helen raised her hands to her own breasts so she could pinch her nipples. Once they were hard enough, she grabbed Oakley hard around his torso, grinding her breasts into his heaving chest.

"Oh babe. Your tits feel so good." Oakley moaned, then shut his eyes tight. He rolled his hips. His cock ached to be released but Oakley had sworn to bring Helen off before he even thought of getting his prick out.

"Love, I'm going to lay you on the grass." Oakley waited for Helen to nod, then carefully, with his fingers still stroking between her thighs, bent forward at the waist and put Helen down. Removing his hand from her throbbing sex, Oakley stood up to kick off his shorts, then knelt between her legs.

"Ooh!" Helen was surprised to feel Oakley's hands grabbing her ass from below, and even more so once he gently pulled her up, so that her ass rested on his thighs. Her legs were spread, and her cunt was so close to Oakley's cock. His cock, which was so hard and dark - it bobbed up towards her heat.

Though her nipples cried out for attention, Helen reached down with one hand and grasped his dick, first at the tip, and then on the shaft. She rubbed her thumb over the weeping slit in the head, rubbed the pre-cum, and sucked it off.

Oakley growled. He nearly lost it when, as if that wasn't enough, Helen reached down and began to stroke him. She was slow and careful, until she began to lightly slap her slick folds with his dick. The head would slap then rub against her clit, making them both cry out with agony and pleasure.

Helen whimpered, her eyes shut. She protested when Oakley took himself in hand, and moved her hand to her clit.

"Oakley, please."

A hot wind rustled through the leaves of the trees, and ruffled the wild curls on Oakley's head.

He stroked himself once, then slid his cock into Helen's cunt, rolling his hips as he did.

"OH FUCK." Helen out cried as he filled her. The angle at which she lay upon it made it so the head of his dick brushed against the spongy spot inside, the spot that Oakley's fingers were already so familiar with, every time he thrust in and out.

Feeling her tighten around him, Oakley began to pump. He trailed his fingers up Helen's torso as he did so, keeping his touch light even as he began to roll his hips and quicken his pace.

He clenched his buttocks, ignored the tingly sensation that began to enter his legs from having been folded for a while. He gently rubbed his palms on Helen's nipples, occasionally kneading her breasts while he thrust faster.

Helen was delirious, the feeling of Oakley hitting her g-spot was so overwhelming. But she needed him on her, with her, not just inside.

"Oakley. Love. Please." She held her arms out to him.

Oakley leaned forward, sliding Helen back out of the grass, keeping his cock inside of her. Helen's legs were spread wide, knees bent so he could continue to fuck her deeply. He bent his arms at the elbow so he could brace himself, and not sink his weight onto Helen.

Now that he had some purchase, he began to pump harder, faster. Helen's lips found his and they kissed, gently and then hard, tongues swirling and playing with each other as they began to peak.

Helen was sensitive to the sounds of their lovemaking. The sound of them, of his cock plunging in and out of her cunt, juices leaking and mixing, drove her crazy.

She tightened  and then it came. Bursts of light came, finding her even with her eyes shut. She squeezed Oakley's buttocks, dug her nails in, and rolled her hips faster.

Oakley's hips clashed against her inner thighs, making a slapping sound that, coupled with the feeling of Helen's hot went cunt, made Oakley think he must be dead. Because nothing in his life had ever felt so good nor so right.

They kept going, kept moving, him bucking into her, she rolling up to meet him. Oakley came and he jerked, groaning with satisfaction as he felt himself fill Helen with his cum.

Helen moaned, squeezed her walls around him a few times until, finally, he was finished. He was spent. And so was she.

Helen turned her head to the side, pressing her cheek to the lawn, and flapped her arms slowly so the grass tickled her flesh. Her breath came out in short gasps. She was overwhelmed. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"What's so funny?" Oakley began to suckle gently at the base of her throat when she began to laugh.

"Nothing. Everything. I just..."

Helen sighed in contentment.

"I feel really good."

"So do I," murmured Oakley.

"Good." Helen stroked the back of Oakley's neck, then his shoulders.

"Okay,  _now_ I feel good." Oakley was practically purring.

Helen rolled her hips against him once, then again until she began to feel him stir and rock against her.

"Oh fuck, Helen."

"That was the kind of the idea." Helen hissed in his ear. "Darling, I'm going to need you to roll over."

"What? But your hips, oh god..." Oakley moaned when she rolled her hips again.

"I'm going to need you to roll over so I can roll over... and get on my knees."

"Ah."

Oakley rolled off of his girlfriend's soft body, lying on his side so he could watch her slowly roll onto her stomach. His eyes grew wide as she carefully drew her knees up, kneeling with her back bowed so her butt was up and out.

Helen braced herself by placing her forearms on the grass near her head, and crossed her hands, one over the other, as a place to place her head. She turned her head to Oakley and smiled. He leaned over to kiss her, sucking on her lower lip.

Oakley knelt behind her, his cock hard again. It bobbed up against her sopping, aching pussy, making her moan. Oakley scooted back further.

"Oak, baby, where did you... OOF!" Helen cried out as she felt Oakley part her folds then slide his tongue into her core. Tentatively, gently at first, then more insistent. She could feel his nose pressing into her, and then a finger swirling on her clit.

"Fuck. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh god. Oakley!"

Oakley pulled her pussy lips wider, pushed his tongue in deeper and harder. He would tug the labia into his mouth, sucking and licking before plunging his tongue back into her. Every time he repeated these gestures, his tongue would go harder and faster and further than before. His thumb circled her clit, roughly at first and then so fast because Helen was so wet.

When Helen was so close to coming, could feel the knot inside her sex begin to unspool, Oakley replaced his tongue with his cock, placing the tip at her entrance then snapping his hips into her so he filled her swiftly.

She screamed his name, then began to whimper as he continued to thrust.

Snapping his hips, rubbing her clit, Oakley leaned forward, placing one hand on the ground next to Helen's so he could support himself as he bent over, and pressed his chest into her back. It was as close to an embrace as he could manage.

For as much as he loved watching Helen submit, bowing in front of him, offering herself to him, giving him the hot, tight, wet cunt he so desired, what he dearly loved was her touch. The feeling of her body shuddering as he brought her to ecstasy, or when she did it herself, tweaking her own clit as he fucked her with his dick. Her fingers in his hair, and her lips opening and closing as they kissed and sucked and nipped at him.

He wanted to feel as much of her as possible, would melt into her if he could, as she came apart in his arms.

He kissed her back, her shoulder blades, the nape of her neck, tenderly at first, then harder, even rougher as his cock continued to pound into her swollen sex. He couldn't resist nipping, then biting her shoulder when he came, mere moments after she did, screaming his name, her cunt pulsing and clenching around him.

Hips jerking, he straightened up, bringing Helen with him, so he could keep one hand on her mound, the heel of his hand rubbing her clit, while the other hand massaged her breasts and tweaked her nipples.

"Oh..." Helen's eyes were glassy when she turned her head to look up at Oakley.

He leaned down to kiss her, snaking his tongue into her mouth. She suckled on it before she had to release it to take a few more breaths.

He brought the thumb that had been on Helen's clit into his mouth, moaning as he sucked her juices off. Carefully, he withdrew from her, then lay them back on the ground, on their sides, so he could spoon her.

Helen drew lazy circles on his hip with her finger. She teased her folds, dipping her finger in, before sucking it off.

Oakley was astonished. The sound of his gasp made Helen turn to him, a sleepy smile on her face.

"I couldn't... I couldn't help it. I just wanted to know. What we tasted like."

"That's so hot." Oakley took her finger and sucked on it greedily. "Mmmm."

"Oakley?" Helen sounded like she was going to fall asleep.

"Yes?" He kissed the back of her ear.

"I love you. I love you so much."

"Baby, I love you too."

Oakley slid an arm around her, letting his hand rest on her soft belly, before closing his eyes.

* * *

In the morning, a few hours before his train back to London departed, Oakley lifted his head from between Helen's thighs, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and asked her a question.

"Helen?"

"Hmmm?" Helen sang. She always sang after a particularly lovely orgasm.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, sweetheart." Helen sat up. "You sure I can't return the favor?"

Oakley grinned before crawling up the bed so he could lie on top of her.

"You can owe me. The next time we see each other."

Helen looked thoughtful.

"When?" She whispered.

"How about New Year's Eve? My birthday?" Oakley looked hopeful.

Helen giggled.

"Yes. I think I can do that. Should I come back...?"

Oakley shook his head.

"I'll go there. Is that alright?"

Helen nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course."

"And then you can give me your present."

"Yes," replied Helen. "I'll try to make it better than a blow job."

Oakley laughed. "What could be better than that?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something..." Helen began, then squealed when Oakley began to tickle her.

* * *

"Got everything?"

Kit looked at his brother, who stood on the steps of Helen's dorm, whispering to Helen and caressing her face. Kit sounded cross but he was actually alright, having spent the night at the hostel with a particularly winsome German backpacker.

Oakley checked his bag, made sure he had everything he needed (including Helen's panties from the previous night) and his pockets, where he found something.

"I got you this at St. Pancras." He placed the contents of his pocket, a small box, in her hands. "Open it."

Helen smiled at him. "What is it?"

Oakley kissed her cheek. "A little bit of heaven."

Helen gasped when she opened the box to find [two earrings](http://www.baublebar.com/constellation-ear-crawler-set-earrings.html), one a sort of cuff in the shape of the big dipper made of rose gold and dotted with clear crystals. Oakley took the earring out of her hand, then placed the earring on her left ear lobe. A single crystal stud went on her right.

"They're your stars, Helen." He kissed her left ear. "Wear them, and think of me." He kissed the tear that slid down Helen's right cheek.

She smiled.

"Oh, Oakley." She kissed the corner of his mouth and sighed. "Oh, my Oakley." Helen ran her fingers through his hair.

Oakley walked her to the taxi, kissing her one last time before he got in after Kit.

"See you in New York, Oak." Helen leaned down to kiss him through the window.

"See you, Helen. See you in my dreams."

And just like that, he was gone.


End file.
